Chapter 23

twenty-three

BECCA

It was two days before Halloween when I got the call.

Will was already up and out the door, working at Grandpappy's.

The weather was rainy and cold, so Carl stayed home with me.

"Ms. Kernsy, this is Officer Winthrop from the Detroit Police Department."

Heart hammering, I'd forced myself to sit down in the living room and calm my rising panic.

The officer called to inform me that my sister had been arrested while breaking and entering my apartment the previous night.

Maybe my across-the-hall neighbor, Ms. Allen, didn't hate me as much as I thought because she was the one who called it in when she heard sounds coming from the hallway and my apartment beyond.

The officer said Heather was being charged with a misdemeanor, but they needed more information from me as my sister was claiming she had received prior consent to enter my home and that she had no intention of committing felony burglary. Heather told them she'd simply lost her key.

If I hadn't been so disheartened and upset, I would have laughed at that. Of course my sister had broken in with the intent to steal from me. Anyone who didn't believe that, didn't know Heather.

The officer emphasized the seriousness of the offense. He said there were questions surrounding Heather's claim of a misunderstanding. She'd broken in during the middle of the night, which was often punished more severely by the judicial system, and given Heather's extensive record of petty crime sprinkled liberally with possession charges, the powers that be were skeptical.

Officer Winthrop had advised me to come home to Detroit to give my statement and straighten everything out. Plus, I needed to fix the damage to my front door and replace the locks.

I'd promised to be back in Michigan by the evening.

I didn't let myself cry or fall apart once I hung up the phone. I planned instead.

With my computer on my lap and Carl at my side, I found an afternoon flight out of Asheville. I'd go speak with the prosecutor and see what could be done. And then I'd fly back to Kirby Falls as soon as I handled my messed-up life.

By lunchtime I'd cleaned, done laundry, packed my things, and rolled my luggage to the living room. I'd just grabbed my phone off the charger to call Will when he came through the front door in a rain jacket. A brown paper bag was tucked protectively beneath the waterproof fabric.

"Hey," he said, hanging up his wet things on the coatrack. "I brought us some lunch from the Bake Shop."

Before I could thank him, his gray eyes caught on my suitcase near the end of the sofa. "What's going on?"

Swallowing around the embarrassment and unease, I admitted, "I got a call this morning. Heather broke into my apartment last night and was arrested."

Will placed the bag of food on the end table and came to me. Folding me up in his arms, he murmured quietly, "I'm so sorry."

It felt good to sink into his embrace. I'd been holding myself together all morning, desperately trying to just get through this so I could do what I needed to do.

Will pulled back but kept his hands on my waist. "What's with the luggage? Do they need you to come back to testify or something? "

I frowned. "No, I need to clear things up with the police and speak to the prosecutor so that they won't file charges. Heather is being held and?—"

"Won't file charges?" Will asked sharply. "Becca, you can't be serious. She broke into your apartment."

Pressure built behind my eyes, and I was desperately close to losing it. "She's my sister," I breathed.

Will released me and took a step back. "She's a felon." I winced, but Will kept right on going. "She uses you and would have robbed you blind if she hadn't been caught. You don't have to run back to Detroit to fix her mistakes. Your sister needs to accept some responsibility and get her life together. That's not your job. You need to stop enabling her."

"Enabling her?"

Will tossed a hand up in obvious frustration. "She's been harassing you for months. Calling and texting. Trying to get money out of you. You keep bankrolling her bad habits and dirty dealings. You make these allowances for her when all she does is take advantage of you and hurt you."

My breath was coming faster, hearing all the ways my sister didn't actually love me or care about me, how I was small and weak for keeping her in my life. No one wanted their faults tossed in their face, especially by someone like Will.

"Not everyone has the perfect family, Will," I snapped. His face registered shock, whether by my words or my sharp tone, I didn't know. "Some of us just get the shitty hand we're dealt, and that's it. It doesn't mean I can just give up on her."

"That's exactly what it means." Will's tone was incredulous.

But I was already shaking my head. "Some part of me will always be that little girl who got a helping hand while Heather got left behind."

"That little girl needs to grow up and realize that you're both adults now, and Heather makes her own decisions. You've spent your entire adulthood trying to help her. How much longer does she need to throw it in your face? You are not responsible for Heather or the way she chooses to live her life. Why can't you see that? "

I stared, stricken. I'd opened up to Will about my family when I typically chose to keep the truth to myself. I'd told him about my estrangement from my parents and the kind of people they were. I'd confided in him about my sister. He was using those things against me—to humiliate me.

The jobs I'd lost because of Heather. How she'd dealt drugs at my high school and gotten arrested for possession. The bail I'd posted over and over again. The loan I'd co-signed and repaid all on my own. The car she'd stolen. The rehab I'd funded only to find out that Heather had checked herself out.

I felt my face crumple in disbelief as Will stared at me.

"You need to stop deluding yourself where your family is concerned," he said matter-of-factly, and it was like a stab to the chest.

"Deluding myself?" I asked incredulously as anger flowed into the wound. All the little jabs, all the hurt had been replaced by hot fury. How dare he tell me how to live my life? "What about you?"

Will's dark brows pulled together. "What about me?"

Lashing out in anger felt preferable to dwelling in his judgment and condescension. I was tired of hearing all the ways I'd messed up in my life. "You. You're doing what your family wants even though it's never going to make you happy. You keep taking on more and more responsibility at the farm and even moving into your grandpa William's house because you can't tell anyone no."

Gray eyes narrowed to slits, and Will shifted on his feet. "I don't really have a choice. Baseball isn't an option anymore, but you know that."

"Maybe not in the way you always hoped, but your life doesn't have to be toiling away at Grandpappy's, doing a job you hate. You could actually find something that made you happy if you'd just be honest with your family. They'd understand."

"Yeah, well, some families are worth the sacrifice. Some people are worth turning yourself inside out for." He paused. "And some aren't."

His implication had me gritting my teeth. Will's efforts were worthwhile because his family was better than mine.

"So that's the difference between you and me?" I asked. "You're a martyr, and I'm just pathetic. "

Will sighed like I was a child, incapable of understanding. "This isn't about me. This is about you putting Heather first instead of standing up for yourself. How are you ever going to be able to leave her to handle her problems on her own? How are you ever going to distance yourself and actually move here, huh, Becca? If you keep living in a fantasyland where your sister loves you instead of uses you. "

It hurt to hear all my fears and worries coming out of Will's mouth, twisted with anger and contempt. I didn't want to have this fight. I'd just wanted to tell him what happened. I'd sought him for comfort. Not . . . this.

But I guessed that was what you got in a relationship—unsolicited advice and the wherewithal to share it.

"I don't know how to answer that," I admitted. "I was trying. I was trying to do what was right. What made me happy."

Will shook his head. "You're letting her ruin your life because you're holding on to something that's never going to happen."

I slid my phone in my pocket and walked over to my luggage. "Yeah, well, you might want to look in the mirror."

"This is a mistake," he gritted out, jaw flexing beneath his beard.

"Maybe I am pathetic and hopeless, but I'm leaving. My sister needs me."

"If you go, she'll keep her hooks in you and drag you down with her. You'll never come back."

I stared at him, wondering how we'd even gotten here. How did this conversation go so completely wrong? I'd wanted to talk to him, to tell him what was going on. And tell him I was coming back. I'd planned on telling him I loved him. That I thought I'd missed him quietly my whole life. When I'd set foot in Kirby Falls, it had felt right. But when I'd met him . . . that had felt like home.

Will's features flattened as we stared at one another, the emotion leaching from his face. "Do you know why I stayed away at first? Why I didn't want to know you? Why I resented you showing up all over town—all over my town? Worming your way into Kirby Falls and into my life, my friends' lives."

I felt moisture well in my eyes, and the vision of Will, standing stoic and harsh in jeans and a gray flannel, blurred before me .

He continued when I didn't answer. "I didn't want to find out that I'd found the girl of my fucking dreams when she was just going to leave and take my heart with her. And I was right. It was all a waste of time."

My lips parted, registering the hurt. "Will," I begged.

How could he say something so cruel? Did he really believe that? Even if I left and never came back. Even if Will and I couldn't find a way to be together—which all signs seemed to indicate—I'd always treasure the time we'd had together.

He'd changed me. Couldn't he see that? And I'd changed him too.

I'd never wish it away.

I wasn't capable of forgetting Will Clark, and I never wanted to.

A tear tracked down my cheek as I watched Will ignore my quiet plea, call for his dog, and turn and leave.

Dropping down to the sofa, I put my head in my hands and cried.

I replayed every part of our fight. Maybe pieces of it had been a conversation, but sitting here now, feeling weary and lost, I was convinced it had been a battle. And I'd lost.

In a way, I wasn't surprised that Will would rather wish me away that ever have to deal with any sort of heartbreak or disappointment. He'd handled baseball the same way. It was a topic he avoided at all costs. I was certain he thought all those years he'd dedicated to the sport were wasted because it didn't get him to where he wanted to be. Except, that wasn't true. He had gotten there. He'd reached the pinnacle . . . he just didn't get to stay. It wasn't fair, but life rarely was. Instead of being grateful for the lessons he'd learned or the person he'd become, Will would rather forget it all. He'd pack it away in a box in the attic and never look at it again.

And now I had a box of my own in that lonely attic. Cast aside and forgotten.

When I could pull myself together, I canceled my flight and packed up the rest of my things. I cleaned out the fridge and took out the trash. I erased my presence from the tiny house as if I'd never been here at all. I took the coward's way out and left the key on the kitchen counter with a note for Maggie .

I didn't say goodbye to anyone, not the friends I'd made or any of Will's family. No part of me could explain my situation or discuss what had happened with Will.

With one last glance around the tiny house, I closed the door on that part of my life, not knowing if I'd ever be back.

It took nearly two weeks, but I got Heather out of jail and off the hook for the charges against her, Will's voice echoing and guilt eating me every step of the way.

By the time I'd made it to Detroit and spoken with Officer Winthrop in person, the prosecutor had already filed charges. Heather had an initial hearing and bond set in the days following.

Then I was able to confirm my sister's story of a misunderstanding with the prosecutor. Both she and Heather's court-appointed public defender didn't look particularly convinced, but they took my statement anyway.

When Heather was released, I waited outside the county jail where she'd been held since her arrest. I stood when she emerged through the glass-front double doors looking worse for wear. I was sure she was eager to get back to her own apartment, but we needed to have a conversation.

Heather stopped short when I approached, confusion scrunching her hard features.

My sister and I didn't look alike, not really. She was eight years older and had lived a pretty rough life. She appeared older than thirty-seven. Her brown hair hung limp around her pale face. We were about the same height, but where I was petite with subtle curves, Heather was painfully thin. Even now, the jeans she wore hung low on her hips and her collarbones jutted sharply beneath her thin shirt. She wore only a denim jacket several sizes too large to ward off the November cold.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was sharp, rasping from decades of cigarette smoke .

I frowned. "What do you mean? Are you surprised to see me since you broke into my apartment and tried to steal from me?"

Heather rolled her eyes. "No, I meant where are Mom and Dad?"

Realization sank in, and I stared at her, incredulous. For as unwilling as I was to give up on Heather, she was equally as misguided about our parents.

Was this how Will had felt when he looked at me? Was I this oblivious person who ignored the truth?

I feared I knew the answer to that.

"Mom and Dad left you to rot in here, Heather. I'm the one who came. I'm the one who lied to the police and the prosecutor and got you out of this mess. I'm always the one who shows up for you. I'm the one who ruined everything to make sure—" I cut myself off. I didn't want to think about leaving Will and Kirby Falls right now. My sister was good at zeroing in on a wound and pushing it to see where I might bleed. She didn't need to know how beaten down I already was.

But it was enough. Heather huffed a mocking laugh. "Oh, did I mess up your little vacay?" Another eye roll. "Of course you could bankroll a months-long trip to who knows where, but I'm the asshole for trying to borrow your apartment for the night."

I wanted to wince at the accusation, but I'd financed my trip through regular employment. My sister had never held down a job.

A tiny voice whispered that maybe I should ask Heather what had happened to her apartment, find out if she'd been evicted again or kicked out by her roommates. It was habitual to wonder, to offer money, to try to fix whatever might be going on in her life. Whether true or a blatant lie from my sister's mouth. But that wasn't my responsibility. None of this was.

As painful as it was to admit, Will had been right.

He definitely hadn't gone about it in a good way. Things had gotten heated and emotional between us. And he'd hurt me badly in the process. But with some time and distance, I could understand that Will had just been trying to open my eyes to the imbalance in the relationship I shared with Heather .

Since leaving Kirby Falls, I'd had time to think about my sister and where I wanted to go from here. It had been painful, but I knew I couldn't keep this up. And deep down, I knew Heather wasn't going to change. Escalating to breaking into my apartment had been stark and eye-opening.

"If you had just helped me out while you were gone, none of this would have ever happened," she spat angrily.

"Maybe that's true, but I'm not sure why you feel like your little sister needs to take care of you."

Her dark eyebrows drew together in confusion, likely shocked that I'd back-talked her for once.

I continued, words coming fast and furious now that I'd given myself permission to speak up at all, "You've never called me on my birthday or invited me to get dinner with you or even asked about my day or my life or anything at all, Heather. You don't want a sister. You just need a payday. And I can't do this anymore. I can't pick up your pieces when all you do is break me apart. I'm selling my apartment, and I'm leaving Detroit. I'm changing my number, and I'm not coming back. I hope, for your own sake, that you get your life together. But I won't be here to see it."

Blue eyes so much like my own grew hard as I spoke. Heather opened her mouth, likely to spew more venom or accusations or horrible truths. I would never know.

I turned and walked away from the only family I had left.